how to open a bar
by but seriously
Summary: or how not to, as is Matt and Jeremy's case. / Matt, Jeremy, Kol, and what happens when they decide to take a break from the supernatural and have a few beers instead.
1. Chapter 1

**I've been having trouble writing lately, so DJ suggested I take a break from 'put down your sword and crown' and just write little ficlets instead. As practice.**

**Still not sure if this is a twoshot or a threeshot or a whathaveyoushot or not, but I hope you like it anyway :3**

* * *

.

—

**how to open a bar**

—

_a guide by matt donovan and jeremy gilbert_

_—_

_._

Matt and Jeremy want to open a pop up bar.

It's simple enough: a few crates of beer, whatever snack they can wrangle into their arms from the K Mart, maybe even some mini-pizzas if they manage to find a spot with a power outlet (and if they can unhook the microwave oven from the wall and run off with it for a few hours every few nights without Elena noticing).

"What is a pop up bar?" Kol asks, eyebrows fused together. Matt promptly crumples the minute flyer into his fist and pretends to be checking out a bird's nest out the window, but Jeremy just sighs and makes sure Alaric's head is turned away before whispering furtively, "It's like, this underground bar thing."

"An underground bar thing?" Kol repeats in his normal voice, paying no mind to the 'SILENCE IS GOLDEN' sign propped up on the far wall of study hall. Out of the corner of his eye, Jeremy can see a Jim Hardwell and Anna McKenna stop discussing calculus and turn their heads towards him; Bryan Looper has all but gave up on pretending to read Animal Farm (the book was upside down, anyway) and was actually leaning his upper torso towards them.

Jeremy glares at all of them and they turn away.

"Stefan told me all about it." At the mention of his less-than-favourite Ripper, Kol scoffs in distaste, but Jeremy just continues: "We just pop up - like, _literally_ - some place and park there for a few hours, maybe even a few nights, and people come and drink and get hammered and have a great time. And then we move on." Jeremy ducks his head, partly to stop the other students from reading his lips, and partly to avoid the betrayed look Matt is giving him.

Kol nods. "But why can't we just drink at the sorry excuse you have of a bar?"

"We can't go to the Grill. I work there." Matt scoffs, shaking his head ever so slightly: Can you believe this guy? he seems to say. "Also, we're under_age_, dumbass."

Kol still looks lost. Maybe age isn't much of a factor to him, Jeremy surmises.

.

.

.

"I've considered this idea of yours," Kol announces as he drops his tray of food (a sandwich, an apple, and a bottle of blackcurrant juice which suspiciously does not look like blackcurrant juice) right in the middle of Jeremy and Matt's discussion of Devil May Cry 3.

"I want in." Kol smiles like he's doing them a favour.

"But we didn't even _as_—" Jeremy kicks Matt's foot under the table and Matt swallows his groan.

Perhaps it's the whole Denver thing, or maybe it's Kol producing a bag of chips and subconsciously offering them some, that Jeremy kind of (kind of, mind you) doesn't want to say no.

"We'll let you know," is what he says instead.

"We'll text you," Matt offers, with a smile that's too big to be genuine.

Kol, who's fiddling with his brand-new iPhone, looks up and nods. It seems to be enough for him.

.

.

.

"Kol's not invited," Matt announces.

Jeremy nods absently and slides his books into his locker. Matt shuts it for him and says insistently, "I mean it. He's a prick. He can't come."

He doesn't mean to be pushy or anything, but he taps his hand – his third finger is still a little crooked from the time Kol had given him the handshake of doom – against the cool metal of Jeremy's locker door as a reminder.

Jeremy nods again, but this time resignedly. "Fine. No Kol."

A dark figure moves in the shadows of the hallway, and there's a gust of wind as Matt pushes the double doors of Mystic Falls High School open. Matt stuffs his hands in the deep pockets of his coat and Jeremy ducks his head to avoid the blinding white glare of the sun.

.

.

.

They don't text Kol.

.

.

.

It's cold. Particularly cold for a Fall night.

Matt and Jeremy sit huddled around their makeshift bonfire and clink their beer bottles together, sometimes smirking and sometimes exchanging a crude joke or two. There are licks of orange flames reflected in Jeremy's eyes as he stares into the bonfire: lost.

Matt props his elbow on his knee as he checks his wristwatch yet again. "Dude, it's like ten already."

Jeremy frowns. "Didn't we say nine-thirty?"

"Uh." There's the sound of paper un-crumpling as Matt checked on the fliers they'd left around school surreptitiously; slipped between the vents of certain lockers, by the side of urinals and on football helmets. "Yeah. Nine-thirty."

Jeremy tchhts between his teeth. Assholes. Clearly these high school students, who have not even begun to see and experience as much as he and Matt have, did not understand this refined idea of a popup bar.

Matt crunches down on a Dorito and tries not to stare forlornly at the two crates of beer they'd artfully (read: placed at each end of the log and strewn with dried leaves by Jeremy, who'd stepped back to regard his work with a pleased look on his face) arranged around them.

"Well," Jeremy offers, "it _is _the Halloween Dance tonight."

Matt blinks. Duh. "Are we the only ones who decided not to go?"

Jeremy shrugs. Pretty much. "They had to save face, man. I mean, they _had_ to go to the dance." He adds, as an afterthought: "Or face the wrath of Caroline Forbes."

(There just _had_ to be a disaster on a night of a dance, didn't there?)

"They'll be here tomorrow," Matt says, brighter than he'd been two minutes ago.

Jeremy lifts his fourth beer bottle. "Tomorrow."

.

.

.

Tomorrow, same time. Same place.

Still the same crowd of two.

This time, Jeremy doesn't bother concealing his frustration as he frowns into the bonfire they'd hastily set up (they didn't have the time they had the night before, because Jeremy had gone to the trouble of distracting Elena by hiding her teddy bear, and Matt had all but thrown the microwave oven over his shoulder and ran straight out of the house with it. And then there was the problem of hooking it up to Matt's old truck's generator).

Matt's lying down on his log, staring up at the stars. "I'm pretty sure I dropped three invites into Caroline's locker."

"Maybe the glare of all her cheer ribbons stopped her from seeing them," Jeremy mutters.

"I made _mini pizzas_."

"Well, your mini pizzas are getting cold." Jeremy sighs. "Listen, man…"

Matt sits up so fast, Jeremy has to wrack his mind to remember if he'd ever been vamp-bit. (It was getting harder to keep up with the supernatural going ons these days.) "No."

"It's just us tw—"

"Not Kol," Matt says, and defiantly bites down into one of the ten mini pizzas he'd so graciously prepared. He enjoys the first two bites, swallows down the third and fourth hastily, and pops the last bite in his mouth. "Mmm. Delicious," he says thickly.

Jeremy leans back against his upended tree trunk and sighs out a reply, which Matt doesn't really catch. What he does hear is the word 'pathetic'. He's not sure what Jer's referring to: the fact that nobody's coming to their super secret popup bar (so secret that nobody got the memo, apparently), or the sauce stains around his mouth.

He picks up another pizza, but then thinks better of it and sets it down again. Jeremy so owes him for this. "Fine. Call Kol."

.

.

.

Kol shows up smirking ten minutes later (he doesn't want to seem to eager) and surveys the sad scene before him. "Well, well, well, darlings. What do we have here?" To Matt, he says: "Pass me a beer, won't you?"

Matt does, glowering all the while. Kol raises his bottle and says, "Just like Denver, eh mate?"

Matt whips his head around to send Jeremy a questioning look and Jeremy rolls his eyes exasperatedly. Neither of them notice that the pockets of Kol's jacket are bulging, and upon closer inspection (which neither of them thought to do so) they would find that it is filled with the torn-up pieces of what was left of their invitations.

.

.

.

After the last two disasters, Jeremy decides to just tell people instead.

Elena looks down at the flyer in her hands, eyes narrowed. "What is this?"

.

"A pop up bar?" Caroline is the sixth person to ask. "What the hell is that?"

Matt, tired of explaining, just says: "It's this… Look, why don't you just come."

.

"Is it BYOB?" Tyler asks, his eyes never leaving Ms Graham as she bends down to pick up fallen papers off the floor.

"Nope," Jeremy says. "Everything's settled."

.

"Sounds kinda dodgy to me," Bonnie says, skin shining with sweat after perfecting her backhand-triple-flip-split.

.

"It's not dodgy, I swear," Jeremy promises.

Stefan smiles knowingly and revs his motorcycle. "Thought of a place yet?"

.

"The woods behind the Loski's abandoned farm, nine o'clock." Jeremy looks away as Damon guzzles down on his third human. "You coming or not?"

Damon touches the tip of his tongue to his right fang. "We'll see."

.

.

.

**tbc?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Matt Donovan to Jeremy Gilbert, 8:29 PM EST**

dude i cant find it

* * *

**Jeremy Gilbert to Matt Donovan, 8:29 PM EST**

What do you mean you can't find it? ? ? Have you checked back in the woods? ?

* * *

**Matt Donovan to Jeremy Gilbert, 8:45 PM EST**

ya

* * *

**Jeremy Gilbert to Matt Donovan, 8:46 PM EST**

You just went to check, didn't you?

* * *

**Matt Donovan to Jeremy Gilbert, 8:46 PM EST**

ya

* * *

**Jeremy Gilbert to Matt Donovan, 8:47 PM EST**

And?

* * *

**Matt Donovan to Jeremy Gilbert, 8:48 PM EST**

wasnt there

* * *

**Jeremy Gilbert to Matt Donovan, 8:48 PM EST**

Have you checked your truck?

* * *

**Matt Donovan to Jeremy Gilbert, 8:56 PM EST**

ya

* * *

**Jeremy Gilbert to Matt Donovan, 8:56 PM EST**

AND? ?

* * *

**Matt Donovan to Jeremy Gilbert, 8:57 PM EST**

not there either

* * *

**Jeremy Gilbert to Matt Donovan, 8:58 PM EST**

How did you not think to check your truck first dude wtf like are you sure you've looked everywhere?

* * *

**Matt Donovan to Jeremy Gilbert, 8:59 PM EST**

ya so what do we do now

* * *

**Jeremy Gilbert to Matt Donovan, 8:59 PM EST**

Have you checked your room?

* * *

**Jeremy Gilbert to Matt Donovan, 9:08 PM EST**

Dude?

* * *

**Jeremy Gilbert to Matt Donovan, 9:14 PM EST**

Dude

* * *

**Jeremy Gilbert to Matt Donovan, 9:39 PM EST**

DAMMIT MATT

* * *

**Matt Donovan to Jeremy Gilbert, 9:39 PM EST**

ya

* * *

**Jeremy Gilbert to Matt Donovan, 9:40 PM EST**

Nvm

* * *

.

.

"Hey, asshole."

Matt slams shut the locker that Kol is about to close, and despite his third finger throbbing (almost as if to say _Bad idea danger abort **abort**_), shoves Kol against it. "What'd you do with it?"

Kol raises his hand and Matt finds himself sliding ten feet across the floor on his back with an _oof_. Okay. He'd been expecting that.

There's a dangerous glint in Kol's eyes as stands over Matt. "Care to try again?"

Matt glares back at him, getting back on his feet. He steps closer, his voice lowering. "I said—" Matt reaches out a hand to push Kol's shoulder just the slightest, "what did you do with it?"

Kol's eyes darkens considerably. "Did you just push me?"

"I did. You may scare the rest of them with your oh so high and mighty badge of Original glory, but you don't scare me, alright?" Matt steps even closer. "You think you're the only one who's died and come back changed?"

There's a question at the tip of Kol's tongue, but he doesn't say it. Instead, he says, "Well, I'd love to talk about this, but I have other important things to do, like, say, use my high and mighty badge of Original glory to get us unlimited access to liquor tonight." Kol shoulders Matt as he walks past—hard. "If there's anything you want to discuss, I'm sure you can _text_ me."

Matt gapes at Kol's retreating back. "Unbeliev…" Matt mutters. He still hasn't let that go.

"Are you that desperate for friends?" Matt calls after Kol, but only after he's made sure that the Original is well out of earshot.

.

.

.

"Why so glum, chum?" Caroline appears next to Matt with a clap on his shoulder.

He winces. "Not there."

In true Caroline fashion, she's all over it. "Did you hurt yourself? What happened?"

"Nothing," he says gruffly, tossing his knapsack into the back of his truck. He looks back to where Caroline's standing, in her bleached shoes and cheer outfit. "Do you need a ride home?"

"Nah, Bonnie's bringing her car around." Caroline tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, studying his expression. "You seemed a lot more cheerful in your flyer."

"In my wh-?" Before bewilderment can even settle on his face, Caroline's already smacked a piece of paper in it.

"I knew it had something to do with Kol!" she says triumphantly, poking the paper into his face for added effect.

"Kol?" Matt rips the paper away and scans it. His hands crumples its corner almost on instinct as he growls, "_Kol_."

When Kol had suggested methods of advertising, Matt had silenced him with a glower, and Jeremy had said, "Yeah, dude? We already got that down." And by _got that down_, he meant scrawled _Loski's abandoned farm - woods 8 PM for BEER!_ on pieces of paper.

"Multicoloured," Matt had said, "to catch people's eye."

"Your idea, I'm sure," Kol said drily.

Now, their flyer featured a smirking Kol holding up two Jack Daniels in each hand, flanked by Jeremy (chugging straight from a keg) on his left and Matt (red-faced and beaming) on his right. It looked shoddily photographed. Everything looked garishly photoshopped. Judging by the photos, from Tyler's kegger last summer when all of them had gotten very, very, very wasted. Which would explain the way Matt appeared to be swinging his beer around in the flyer.

"I'm going to kill him," Matt declares.

Caroline raises an eyebrow.

"I'm going to hurt him very badly," Matt says pointedly, and Caroline shrugs. Matt sees Bonnie's car come crawling from around the corner.

"Why is he even in on this thing, anyway?" Caroline asks as she watches Matt wave at Bonnie.

"Jeremy insisted—and besides, the only reason we got saddled with Kol is because _you guys_ didn't show up to our first pop up bar."

"Wait, hold up. _First_ pop up bar?"

"Yes, first." Matt scowls sullenly. "We got flyers and everything. I made mini pizzas."

"Flyers?"

"_Mini pizzas,_ Care."

"I never got your flyer." Caroline smacks her forehead. "Wait, was it the night of the Halloween dance? Was that why you and Jeremy weren't there?" She doesn't wait for an answer; his glare is more than sufficient. Bonnie honks, and she raises a finger, _Just a sec_.

"Are you _sure_ you handed them out? Because this is supposed to be all super secret and a—"

"I'm sure."

Bonnie honks again, and Caroline shoots him an apologetic smile. "Gotta go. Text me!" she calls over her shoulder as she scampers away.

Text her.

_Text._

.

.

.

* * *

**Matt Donovan to Kol M, 4:59 PM EST**

i know u did it

* * *

**Kol M to Matt Donovan, 5:05 PM EST**

Ah, IC you've finally found a way to text LOL is there something you need BTW?

* * *

**Matt Donovan to Kol M, 5:06 PM EST**

ur the one who so insisted anyway i know u were the one behind all of them not getting our flyers

* * *

**Kol M to Matt Donovan, 5:14 PM EST**

ORLY what of it?

* * *

**Matt Donovan to Kol M, 5:14 PM EST**

what do u think jeremys gonna say when i tell him

* * *

**Kol M to Matt Donovan, 5:19 PM EST**

Is this about the damn toaster oven SMH

* * *

**Matt Donovan to Kol M, 5:19 PM EST**

ya its about the damn toaster oven

* * *

**Matt Donovan to Kol M, 4:19 PM EST**

and jfc could u type any slower

* * *

**Kol M to Matt Donovan, 4:27 PM EST**

IDEK what you're talking about but WTV if it means that much to you I'll figure SMTH out just TACP :-%

* * *

**Matt Donovan to Kol M, 4:28 PM EST**

whatverer man just be at my place by 8 what are u planning on doin anyway

* * *

**Kol M to Matt Donovan, 4:36 PM EST**

Can't say here NSFW

* * *

**Matt Donovan to Kol M, 4:37 PM EST**

do u even know how to use that term

* * *

**Kol M to Matt Donovan, 4:45 PM EST**

LMFAO OFC HMU L8R B-)

* * *

**Matt Donovan to Jeremy Gilbert, 4:46 PM EST**

i fuckin hate u

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

**From: **elena_g  
**To: **eat_my_meat12  
**Subject: (no subject)**

Jer, why aren't you answering any of my calls or texts. Anyway where's our toaster oven? ? ?

* * *

.

.

.

For all of Damon's cryptic texts—"Yo so u going tonight?" "Isn't that the question?"—he showed up all the same, Black Label Jack Daniels in his flask and scepticism in the set of his lips.

Damon's sitting at the very edge of the clearing, where not even the dancing light of the bonfire could reach. Perched on his mossy, night-damp log, Damon eerily reminds him of a bat. He almost shudders at the irony of it all. He focuses on the flask in Damon's hand instead.

"Are you mourning something?" Matt asks.

"Too early to tell," Damon says, eyeing Kol, who's scattering dried leaves into the bonfire. He turns back to Matt. "That, and my social life."

Matt steers clear of him after that. It didn't really matter, anyway, because Damon seemed to melt right into the darkness when more people start to arrive.

Elena brings guacamole, to go with the jumbo bag of plain Doritos that Bonnie drops into Jeremy's lap. Jeremy brings the dip and the chips to the mini pizza station, which just a log covered with a blanket next to Kol's sleek mini oven contraption. Elena had squinted at it for a good three seconds, before Matt hurriedly steps in to talk about how pine-y the woods smelled that night.

Kol is crouched next to his mini oven, fiddling with the nobs and buttons despite, just ten minutes ago, had rebuked Jeremy when he'd commented, "Cool oven."

"It's not _just_ an oven." Kol sniffs and holds it close to his chest. "It has an auto-eject rack, nine preset cooking functions, a digital display, and an internal sensor to maintain consistent heating temperatures. And," he adds, "it can make smoothies."

Okay, Jeremy concedes, that's pretty rad. But that aside, did Kol even get the things he'd just said?

"Huh." Kol rubs the back of his head, balancing his mini toaster oven in his other hand. "Not really. I just know that there shall and will be no fiddling with the buttons later."

And yet here he was. Fiddling.

"Need help?" Jeremy offers, but Kol just waves him away.

Alright then.

He makes the rounds, getting drinks, stoking the fire, making sure everyone's having a good time. Caroline had put in some good tunes in the mix she'd made, which she insisted be played over the speakers Matt had lugged here (which were also hooked up to his generator). Bonnie was laughing loudly over something Tyler was saying, almost knocking a can of beer right into Caroline's boots had Stefan not swooped in to flick it out of the way. It ends up hitting Elena in the shoulder, but all she does is giggle and throw a marshmallow at his head. Damon is still skulking around somewhere (Jeremy could've sworn he saw Damon perched in a tree some two hours into the … he doesn't exactly know what to call it. It's not a party. It's a pop up bar.

He swells up with pride. _His _pop up bar.)

"Our pop up bar," Matt says, coming up next to him. Jeremy nods absently, taking a swig of his drink. He must have said that last part out loud. They're back by the mini pizza station. Kol was trying to coax Damon out of his tree with the lure of mini pizzas topped with blue cheese and bacon bits.

"Things are going great," Matt says again. "Look at that, Stefan's kind of smiling."

Jeremy squints. Stefan's talking with Caroline about something or other, and sure enough, there's a lilt to the corner of his mouth. He catches Jeremy's eye and raises his bottle.

Jeremy raises his right back, and Kol's toaster oven auto ejects a mini pizza right into his waiting hand.

.

.

.

People start leaving in a happy drunken haze around 2am, with lots of one-armed hugs and whisper-screaming into ears involved.

"Where's the next pop up bar?" Damon asks as he drops out of his tree.

I'll let you know, Jeremy says, his chest chuffed because he knows Damon wouldn't bother asking if he'd had a less-than-good time. He watches Damon watch everyone leave, and the dark-haired vampire doesn't start to gather his bearings until he's seen the last of everyone's back. In the back of his slightly hazy mind, Jeremy wonders if the only reason Damon was here was to watch over everyone.

He narrows his eyes and wonders how much of all of this Damon had told Alaric. He made a mental note to look alert in class tomorrow (today?). Probably take jot notes down as well.

Kol helps them clean up, picking dented cans out from under logs and shaking dried leaves off of blankets. Matt heaps the throw pillows into the back of his truck, catching whatever item Jeremy tosses at him, but steering clear of Kol whenever possible.

Nobody is allowed to touch Kol's toaster oven, but that's alright with the both of them.

For someone who so insisted to be a part of this pop up bar venture, Kol had barely said a word to them all night, except for the occasional snarky comment, all of which were directed to Matt.

Of course, when everything's packed and the three of them are settled in his truck, it refused to start. As luck would have it.

"It's your _damn_ toaster oven," Matt gripes, slapping a hand against his steering wheel. "Bled my truck dry."

Kol holds it to his chest defensively. "Don't you talk shit about my toaster oven."

Matt looks like he certainly could and _would_ talk shit about Kol's toaster oven, so Jeremy quickly works out a plan. Of course, everyone he calls refuses flat out, mostly because Kol would be there. Damon went as far as to suggest (read: loudly express his frustrations) that Kol could just _walk_. "He's an Original for Chrissake, it's not like it would _exhaust_ him," but upon hearing this, Kol refuses point blank to even budge from his spot. Matt sticks out a petulant tongue at him.

Which is why the three of them end up waiting for Elijah to come pick all of them up. He waits by his car while they load their things into his trunk; stares down unblinkingly at Kol's modified SUPER SECRET POP UP BAR flyer, raises an eyebrow at the way Kol is clutching his toaster oven, but says nothing.

"My truck…" Matt starts to say when they're snug and comfortable in Elijah's Mercedes, but all the Original says is, "I'll have it taken care of."

The ride home is silent. Kol sits shotgun, with his toaster oven in his lap. The soft leather feels impossibly good against his cheek, and Jeremy is nearly dozing off when Elijah asks, "So how was your night?"

"Fine," the three of them chorus.

And that was that.


End file.
